The Trouble with Mistletoe
by Levana Oba
Summary: Handsome Bob celebrates the holidays with the rest of the Wild Bunch at One Two's new flat...
1. Chapter 1

_This lil' ditty is the result of combining three things: sleep deprivation, eggnog, and RocknRolla. Feedback is always welcome._

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Handsome Bob looked around the flat with tired amusement. What had started as a wild party to celebrate both the hols and One Two's new flat had finally begun to wind down. Too tired to really partake in the festivities but still unwilling to go back to his own tiny flat, Bob had stretched himself out on the small sofa idly drinking some eggnog.

There were only a few stragglers left now. Cookie was still dancing in the main room. Well, at least it appeared to be some sort of dance as it was more of a shuffle with a twist of hip every now and then. Mumbles was doing his best not to laugh at the spectacle while savoring the last bit of his cigar. Fred had finally gotten the nerve to chat up Dolly. Though she was completely delighted by this turn of events, she was making him work for it a bit - bless her. The most surprising straggler, however, was still singing a bit off key on One Two's beloved karaoke machine.

Bob didn't know which surprised him more; the fact that Archy had a secret love for music or the fact that he showed up at One Two's flat in the first place. Apparently the end of Lenny had given Archy more breathing room. The look of absolute shock on One Two's face when Archy had belted out notes to _Mustang Sally _was utterly priceless. Of course the wily Scotsman refused to be outdone and the dueling began. It was hard to say who was winning, really. Both blokes were having a hard time keeping a straight face while other man was singing botched up versions of Christmas carols.

Ah, they had gotten to the slower of the melodies now. He had to admit that even though One Two's rendition of _Silent Night _was far superior to Archy's _Oh Holy Night_; it made his eyes all the more heavier. He felt himself sink deeper into the cushions of the sofa and laid his head back on one of the pillows.

_Maybe just a few minutes …_ was his last thought as he closed his eyes and sank into oblivion.

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Bob was jolted awake thanks to vigorous shake to his shoulder. He looked blearily to the source of his rude awakening who was perched on the arm of the sofa above his head.

"Ya know s'rude to fall asleep at a party; especially _my_ party- right, boyo?" One Two, sitting with his arms crossed with a slight scowl on his face, looked for all the world like a vengeful man who meant serious business. Until he ruined the image by grinning crookedly when Handsome Bob yawned and flipped him off.

Bob met One Two's mischievous green eyes with a dark baleful look that only the truly sleep deprived can deliver. This of course, just made One Two grin even more.

Ignoring the Scotsman for the time being, Bob sat up and stretched slowly taking a long look around the empty flat. The karaoke machine was still on, playing some more soft Christmas carols. Decorations were strewn everywhere throughout the entire place and some of the holly was beginning to sag a bit. There was one lonely bit of mistletoe strung above the doorway that lead to the kitchen with most of the white berries still on it. Apparently One Two hadn't been getting many ladies over or the thing would have already been plucked bare.

"What happened? Did you toss out the gang in a huff because Archy won the Karaoke Cup?" Bob grinned wryly at One Two's disgruntled look and got a slap to the back of his head for his trouble.

"For yer information, it was a draw." One Two's Scottish drawl had taken on a bit of haughtiness and his disgruntled look deepened further to the point of pouting… well, if one had nerve enough to call it pouting. Bob was tempted to toe the line never the less.

"Mumbles finally had enough, did he? What'd he do? Threaten to record the whole thing and use it for blackmail?" This earned him another slap, but it was worth it.

"I ought to toss ya out on _yer_ arse! I would too - if ya didna have dishes w'yer name on em!" One Two dragged a now completely awake and protesting Bob towards the kitchen and shoved him inside. When Bob made a move to duck around the taller man, One Two managed to get a hold Bob's t-shirt and held him to the door frame just outside the kitchen. When Bob made to make another protest, One Two silenced him with a weary look.

"Think of it as payment for fallin asleep at a party - yer lucky I didna do somethin to ya while you were still sleepin'."

Bob quirked an eyebrow at this comment before he gently grasped the hand that had pinned him to the doorframe. He slowly grazed his thumb over the Scot's knuckles before looking the other man in the eye. One Two had frozen in place at the sudden change in behavior of his friend and was now watching him warily. Bob smiled a slow, crooked grin and cranked on the charm. It was all or nothing now.

"Oh you're such a _tease_, Mr. One Two. What am I to do but wonder about all the kinky things you _could_ have done to me while I was sleepin?"

"Kinky things? Wha' kind o-" One Two muttered helplessly before his brain caught up with him and connected the dots. "Wait! I didna' mean that- I wasna' goin' t- Did _you_ think tha' I was- but I-"

One Two let go of Bob and backed up against the other side of the door frame and was sputtering on needlessly about the things that he didn't mean. Bob was trying to not relish in the older man's embarrassment too much. One Two was flustered and Handsome Bob was now in his element. Bob took a step forward that put him face to face with the panicky Scot who then ceased his defensive rambling. Though he could have easily moved, One Two had something akin to a 'deer in the headlights' look and was frozen to the doorframe.

Bob leaned closer to One Two and whispered "I know you wouldn't have done anything…" One Two breathed a tiny sigh of relief and laughed a bit. One Two bashfully grinned lopsidedly at the younger man who was still standing very close to him.

"Ya really had me goin' Bobski, I thought ya were really gonna-" Bob had leaned in that final inch and brushed his warm lips against One Two's, stunning the other man into silence. Amazed that the Scot hadn't made a break for it so far, Bob placed his hand on One Two's chest and deepened the kiss a little more. One Two moaned a little and gave in to the kiss without reservation.

Bob couldn't believe that after years of wanting to do just this _one_ thing to this _one_ particular man, he was finally getting what he had longed for. He felt one slow shaky hand touch his shoulder and One Two tried to pull him closer. Bob inwardly smiled, savoring this new development and gently broke off the kiss.

"Bob?" One Two whispered, confused at the break in contact. Bob smiled a small sexy grin before reaching up above One Two's head. Bob plucked a small white berry from an otherwise innocent looking bunch of mistletoe.

"I always knew these things were good for something other than decoration." He tucked the small berry in his pocket before making his way to the front door where his coat was waiting for him.

"Since it's so late, I ought ta be goin'. I'll be seein you around - eh, Mr. One Two?" One Two - still slightly befuddled, nodded helplessly as Handsome Bob walked out the door with a bounce in his step and whistling - _whistling_ mind you- an upbeat tune.

Leaning against the doorframe, One Two stared up at the mistletoe with a mix of wonder and uncertainty. He never _ever _thought that the night's events would lead to something like this. Or that he'd enjoy it… Still not quite ready to believe _that _little tid bit, he looked all around his flat to confirm that the events of the night had actually happened and was not the result of some eggnog induced dream.

Then he glanced in the kitchen and he realized that he was stuck with doing the dishes that Handsome Bob was supposed to do.

Irritated, frustrated, and a wee bit confused, One Two began to think of ways to get back at the man who turned his world upside down in a mere instant.

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	2. Chapter 2

Big Fat Legal Disclaimer:

I, Levana Oba, do not own RocknRolla, nor do I lay any claim to the plot or characters created by Guy Ritchie…. Though, if Mr. Ritchie would be kind enough to let me borrow One Two it would be greatly appreciated. He might not get him back, but I promise that I'd take good care of him.

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There's Something About Bob…

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Mumbles took a good long drag from his cigar and contemplated the current situation. Normally the Speeler, as ramshackle as it was, was full of camaraderie and general good cheer. Today, however, it seemed as if the whole place had taken on an aura of hostile desolation. The bar was nearly silent. The only sound in the whole place was emanating from the races playing on the telly. The lads were in a right sour mood and quick to fight. Even Dolly, typically unfazed by the Bunch's moods, had become a bit of a wicked bint lately. The aura of animosity was so palpable that even the two swindling junkies who were both a constant thorn and a form of entertainment had chosen to lay low.

The source of this enmity that was poisoning the atmosphere of the Speeler was currently sitting in a corner using an old newspaper as a shield from any enquiring party. Not that anybody would have bothered him. Many of the lads had already been the victim of the Scot's vicious tongue and were content to stay well away from the raging lion that was One Two. The cause of the Scot's temper remained to be a mystery. For three days after One Two's party, the man had been in a somewhat decent mood. He had seemed wary every now and then; as if waiting for some large object to fall from the sky and land squarely on his head. But he still acted like the generally laid back man that One Two normally was. It was the day that they had all gathered at the Speeler for the first meeting of the New Year that had been a gift from the fiery depths of hell.

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The meeting went on well enough. All the lads were in a chipper mood, happy to be starting a new year. They had been ribbing One Two about his bout with Archy on the karaoke machine when One Two glanced about bar with a bit of concern on his face.

"Has any one seen Bob lately?" One Two asked casually – almost too casually in Mumbles' opinion.

"Well maybe he's still on holiday." Cookie offered with a small grin.

"It's the fifth of January – how long does he plan on celebratin'?" One Two groused.

"Maybe he took off with that Bertie fella for New Year's," Fred piped in, "You know how it is with new lovers – all in each other's business and blind to the happenings of the outside world…" Fred's face was pasted with a dopey grin, obviously thinking of things that didn't really have to do with Bob at all.

"Dolly keeping ya on a short leash then, Fred?" Cookie barely dodged a solid cuff to his head. Fred didn't take too kindly to being teased about Dolly.

Nobody but Mumbles had noticed the rigid expression that had blossomed on One Two's face. One Two slowly leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and looked at the group before him with a decidedly surly expression.

"Well, should any of you lot see 'im, let 'im know that the fuckin' party's over and its time to get back to fuckin' work."

"I thought that jobs were slim pickins," Fred ventured cautiously, " so what's the harm with Bob-" One Two stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process and planted his fists on the table in one smooth, aggressive motion.

"He doesn't fuckin' _know_ that, does he Fred? He's not here to know whether or not if we had a job lined up! So if it's all the same to you, just pass on the fuckin' message that if he doesn't get his scrawny arse back here for work, he'll be fuckin' replaced!" One Two grabbed his coat and stormed out the building with all of the grace of a category five hurricane.

The three remaining men sat stunned, reeling from the abrupt change of attitude from their fearless leader.

"What's eatin' him, then?" Cookie asked after a long bout of silence.

"Dunno, boys." Mumbles sighed tiredly and shook his head. He stood up and gathered his own coat. "But I'll look into it. Keep your chins up and lay low for the time bein'."

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That lovely little episode had been about a week ago. Things had steadily gone to shit from there. Handsome Bob still remained missing, and One Two was a step away from getting the Surly Bastard of the Year Award; it was only the middle of January for Christ's sake.

Mumbles took another drag and leaned back in his chair to study One Two. The man was more prone to playing small pranks on his mates, not shouting at them in barely disguised rage. He was rarely in such a foul mood. In fact, the only other time he acted remotely like this was after he and Bob had danced-

Mumbles widened his eyes in sudden clarity of thought.

_No fuckin' way… _Mumbles snuffed out the remains of his cigar and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. _I thought me and Archy were the last to leave the party... I'd forgotten that Bob had fallen asleep on the sofa…so did One Two… did he and Bob… do I really wanna know?_ Mumbles took another good look at the temperamental Scotsman in front of him. One Two had abandoned the newspaper and was fumbling about for his cigs and lighter, his expression dark and foreboding.

_Bloody fuckin' hell…that explains it… the bastard's fuckin' jealous._ Mumbles groaned internally. Somebody would have to patch things up. It looked like it'd have to be him.

Of all the the jobs that'd he'd taken on with the Wild Bunch, he sure as hell never thought that he'd have to play Cupid.

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	3. Chapter 3

Big Fat Legal Disclaimer

This plot's mine. The original plot and characters belong to Guy Ritchie. I'm still holding out for 'borrowing' privileges for One Two and Bob anyway… as well as rest of the worlds female population. (sigh)

The rating has been changed to 'M' because of One Two's mouth.

A great big Thank You to Thatsaporkpie, twentywings, and Soapiefan for your wonderful reviews. They made me smile and have been a wonderful source for inspiration.

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There's Still Something About Bob

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One Two slammed his front door shut with enough force that the door threatened to come off its hinges. Of course, one malevolent look from the angry Scotsman made the door think twice about it. It was better to remain mostly intact rather than be reduced to splinters, after all.

Mr. One Two was in a bit of a bad mood.

All right, so he was downright livid.

But One Two was having a bit of a bad week.

Scratch that, he was having a bit of a bad _month_.

One Two made his way down his steps and began the long trek towards the Speeler. He had begun to notice earlier in the week that he was prone to copious amounts of road rage. After the third time of nearly busting a man's head over who had the proper 'right of way' (which he did, of course) he decided that it was best to skip driving altogether until he figured out how to get a leash on his anger. It would also, hopefully, give him time to cool down before he reached the Speeler and was tempted to unleash his wrath on the lads.

_Well, gettin cold's a sure thing; it's the middle of January, for fuck's sake._

One Two knew he'd been a bit of a nasty bastard the last few weeks to his crew, but things were definitely not the best of times.

Their one shot of running a legitimate business was being covered with so much red tape that it was beginning to look like a bloody Christmas decoration – all it needed were the spazzy twinkle lights and a bit of holly.

It also didn't help matters that their current real estate lawyer was a bit of a yellowbellied idiot that didn't know his shoes from his arse. He hated to admit it, but the one thing that Lenny was right bloody good at was cutting through the red tape that was currently being plastered all over their slowly crumbling building. With Lenny serving a new purpose of feeding the crayfish infesting the Thames, the Wild Bunch was left with cutting through the tape the old-fashioned way. The slow, agonizingly painful, **legal** old-fashioned way.

Unless, they could get a bit of scratch that'd help grease the wheels of Lenny's (now Archy's) contacts.

Jobs, however, were few and far between.

Jobs were especially limited now that their driver, Bob, was M.I.A. There was only so much that he and Mumbles could pull off, and the rewards for those jobs were laughable and therefore hardly worth risking their necks over.

_Bob…_

One Two raked his hands through his hair angrily before shoving his hands back into his pockets. That was another thing that was pissing him off. He hadn't seen or heard from Bob since the prat had left his flat after their… moment? Intimate exchange? The **Whatever-The-Fuck-That-Was** event that happened at the end of the party. Not that he'd been keeping tabs on Bob or anything, but this was a bit unusual for the Brit. All of the members of the Bunch had at one time or another taken a bit of a holiday from the crew. But they usually told him about it before they shipped off to go God knows where.

Bob had not only skipped out on telling him about his unexpected trip to the unknown, but he hadn't told any of the others either. That wasn't a good sign. Bob was also the type to keep in touch with either himself or Mumbles at the very least. He hadn't received any calls or messages at all from Bob. The prat's cell was practically attached to him and he would never leave the bloody thing lying about. He even tried to call Bob several times only to hear the phone go straight to voice mail.

Hell, he even went by Bob's flat with no success.

**_That_**_ was a bloody fuckin' joke!_ One Two grimaced in memory.

One Two, in a rare bit of insanity, had paced about the front of Bob's nearly derelict building like a daft idiot for a while before actually pressing the com button in hopes of actually talking to the man. Of course, being all nerves and little brains at the time, One Two might have punched the button a bit too hard. The whole box had fallen from the side of the crummy building and was dangling from its wiry entrails, sparking contemptuously. One Two had scrambled to replace the box back into its nook only to have it pop out like an insane electrical jack-in-the-box. After three more attempts of shoving the bloody wiry beast back into its hole from whence it came, lots of desperate pleading, and several bouts of cursing that'd make a Scottish dockworker blush, One Two had finally convinced the damn thing to stay put and took off before anyone took notice of him. If any passer-bys did see him they probably thought it best to leave the infuriated Scottish Don Quixote to his duel with the wily com box and go about their own business.

That delightful incident happened about a week ago, about a couple days after the Bunch's meeting. One Two's mood had continued it's downward spiral, and there was still no sign of the suddenly elusive Handsome Bob.

All this amounted to not only pissing One Two off, it had him fucking worried. He _hated_ being worried.

It didn't help that he was still… _confused_ about 'whatever' happened between him and Bob at the party. He was still a bit shocked that he even let it happen - let alone enjoyed it. He never thought of himself as gay before and he sure as hell didn't think of himself as gay now. It's not as if he looked at other guys and, well, thought of them _that _way. He also still liked the ladies. A **lot**.

But still, there was something about Bob that had always affected him. He was always protective of the cheeky Brit, especially when he had been new to the Wild Bunch. Bob was in turn fiercely loyal to him. One Two didn't realize exactly how much until Mumbles had told him about how Bob had taken care of his mum in her last days while he was locked up in a cell for two years.

Bob was truly one of his best mates, but… How the hell did the bloody bastard go from 'best mate' to… whatever the hell their relationship was now? It made things worse that he couldn't feel the Brit out. Sure, over the summer Bob had made it known that he preferred the boys… but… did he want to make a go of it? After all, it was just one bloody dance, and it was just too fucking awkward for words. Did Bob plan to push for something more just because they…

_Why the FUCK am I so worried about this? I just wanna know what the fuck Bob's thoughts and feelin's are about… That-Thing-That-Happened-At-The-Party…_

_Oh, fuck it… so ya fuckin' kissed the bastard and ya think tha' ya might of liked it. Man up and admit it, ya daft bastard. _One Two ran one hand over his face before regretting taking it out of his pocket. He'd forgotten gloves… and a hat… He'd barely remembered his coat, but he was still sorely under dressed for a winter in London. One Two rolled his eyes at his absent-mindedness and continued on to the Speeler.

_What does that prat do to me to make me act like this? And am I actually considering… more with Bob?_ One Two released a short growl of pure frustration – not noticing that his fellow pedestrians were now giving him a wide berth.

_Why should I even be thinkin' about it? Bob's still shacked up w' tha' lawyer… Bertie…_ One Two absolutely refused to think of the lawyer that was married to Stella. He tended to see things in shades of red whenever he did. He, of course, was not jealous in any way in regards to the posh lawyer. Not one bit. Nope –

"Could you _please_ tell me why the fuck you're walkin' instead of drivin' your cranky ass to the pub? It's cold enough to freeze your bollocks off! " One Two looked over his shoulder to see Mumbles standing by his car. His nice car that was sure to be toasty warm inside.

"What the fu- Are ya stalkin' me now?" One Two came a bit closer to the Mumbles and the oasis disguised as a vehicle but made no motion towards stepping into the car, despite it's welcoming warmth. Mumbles scoffed a bit at One Two's antics though not really in the mood to put up with them.

"I didn't need to, I heard you bellowin' all the way from the Speeler. Now, get in the car, if you please. We need to have a bit of a chat." Mumbles opened the passenger door, letting the heat rush out. One Two tried not to make a scene of relishing the escaping warmth.

"It can wait t-till I get to the pub. I'm on a bit of a walk t-ta clear my head. Lovely weather for it, t-too." Mumbles quirked an eyebrow at the sound of One Two's teeth chattering and sighed internally. He hated it when One Two got this out of sorts. The man tended to have the mentality of a stubborn toddler when he got to this point. _The things I do…_

"Yeah, the weather's so lovely that your lips have turned a lovely shade of violet. Now, please get your ass in the car before it gets frostbitten. I'm not the best at amputation, so I'm only looking out for your best interest." Mumbles made a welcoming gesture towards the car that would have put Vanna White to shame. Still, One Two did his best impression of a stoic, formidable statue. Mumbles sighed, audibly this time.

"Listen, mate. Times a wastin'. I'm not getting any younger, and your sure as hell not getting any prettier." One Two let out a huff of laughter before Mumbles continued, "so can we just cut this manly pissin' contest of yours short and get on with our lives?"

"I dunno… am I goin' ta be sent to my room w' out my supper?" A hint grin showed on One Two's face and his eyes sparked mischievously.

"Just get in the fucking car." Mumbles said, his voice full of exasperation.

"Yes, Mummy dear – ow - watch it!" Mumbles had finally had enough and cuffed the Scot up side the head. "Fine, ya grouchy bastard! I'm getting in the bloody car!" Mumbles gratefully got in the warm car and waited until One Two was settled before he drove off towards the Speeler.

"Good, now that you've seen a bit of reason, I can tell you the news." One Two, who was truly only focusing on the heat that was pouring out of the car's air vents, spared him a droll look.

"Ah, the news. So what was so important that it couldn't have waited till we got to the pub?"

" Well, I finally heard from your boy. Seems Bob's forgotten his phone charger." There was a brief moment of silence in the car before -

"Why the FUCK did 'e call you? What the- wait a damn minute – he's no' my boy, he's no' my anythin' do ya hear me! Mumbles wha- why the hell are ya laughin, ya bloody bastard!"

Mumbles had given up on trying to contain his laughter. Fortunately the rest of the drive was a short one as One Two continued sputtering indignantly about Bob for the rest of the trip.

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Yes, I know – a rotten place for me to leave it. But have faith! I'm working on the next chapter as I … er, type. As always reviews are welcome, feel free to let me know what you think.


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